As dusk approached, we went to attend what they called the “Huoxing Festival” together.
Just as we stepped onto the arched bridge, we saw a towering bonfire burning brightly on the wide embankment in the distance. Sparks shot into the air, creating tiny points of light. As we got closer to the embankment, waves of heat rolled over us, and the dry air seemed to bake away all the moisture.
Stars dotted the sky, and sparks flew on the ground.
Only with this comparison did I realize that the bonfire in Dongjiang Miao Village was just a childish pretense. The bonfire here was almost two people high, with flames shooting skyward, illuminating the surroundings as brightly as day.
Several men were playing the lusheng, looking deeply engrossed. The melody was at times sorrowful, at others stirring. A few women, dressed in dark black Miao traditional clothing, held hands and danced around the bonfire, chanting as they moved. Their dance wasn’t graceful; instead, it exuded an indescribable strangeness. Even more Miao villagers sat on the ground in a circle around the bonfire, silently watching everything unfold.
On the embankment, a high platform had been built from bamboo. The old man sat upon it with his hands clasped, and the beautiful Wan Ying stood gracefully beside him as usual, her eyes fixed on Shen Jianqing intently.
See, he doesn’t lack the affection of girls, there’s no need for him to waste time on me. A twinge of sourness surprisingly arose in my heart at this thought. I lowered my eyes, forcing myself to ignore my feelings.
When they saw us arrive, everyone looked over in unison. Their faces were expressionless, solemn, and quiet, even a little sad. Their gazes flickered and danced in the firelight, as if holding eerie ghost flames.
My heart sank with a “thump,” and three words slowly emerged in my mind—a “Hongmen Banquet[mfn]Hongmen Banquet is the metaphor for a banquet or invitation with malicious intent, or a trap in disguise.[/mfn].’
I hoped I was just overthinking it.
As soon as we arrived, several Miao villagers stood up and led us to “our seats”, which was actually just sitting on the ground.
“Xu Zirong, I’ll sit next to you.” I said, patting Xu Zirong’s shoulder. Wen Lingyu naturally sat on my other side.
Shen Jianqing, who was already seated, didn’t even lift his head, only keeping his back perfectly straight.
Xu Zirong happily agreed, “Alright! Good brother, can’t be without me, huh?”
I smiled and didn’t speak.
Looking around, I noticed that the man on Wen Lingyu’s other side was actually the one who had been staring at her with a strange look in the crowd the day before yesterday. He seemed very pleased to see Wen Lingyu, his honest face slightly flushed. Wen Lingyu clearly noticed him too, her expression stiffening.
Now that we were all seated, suddenly suggesting a change of places seemed a bit deliberate and rude. Wen Lingyu could only try to put as much distance between herself and him as possible, which inevitably reduced the space between her and me.
Before long, the dance around the bonfire grew more intense, and the lusheng melody became increasingly fervent.
No one present spoke; they all gazed solemnly and devoutly at the bonfire.
“What are they doing?” I heard Qiu Lu whisper into Xu Zirong’s ear. “It looks so strange.”
Xu Zirong scratched his head. “I’ve never seen a ceremony like this either. It doesn’t feel like a festive celebration; their faces are all drawn.”
Qiu Lu said, “Ask Li Yuze, he reads a lot of literature.”
I could only shake my head. “I haven’t seen any mention of a ‘Huoxing festival’ in any literature either. Perhaps it’s a festival unique to the Unassimilated Miao.”
Wen Lingyu, who was beside me, also nodded. “En, en. The books I’ve read don’t mention it either.”
Xu Zirong said, “Lulu, you’re sitting close to Xiao Shen, why don’t you ask…”
Xu Zirong’s words trailed off as he caught Qiu Lu’s winking expression and couldn’t continue.
With her back turned partly toward Shen Jianqing, Qiu Lu lightly placed her right hand on Xu Zirong’s arm, casting repeated sidelong glances to point out Shen Jianqing, while silently exaggerating her lip movements to mouth, “He’s in a bad mood today.”
All evening, on the way here, Shen Jianqing hadn’t said a word to us, only walking with his head down. Several times Xu Zirong and Qiu Lu tried to speak with him, but he either avoided them or gave only brief, perfunctory replies.
“What’s wrong?” Xu Zirong turned back to me and asked, “I thought you two got along best. What’s up with him?”
“I…” I opened my mouth, but no words came out. There was no way I could tell them about Shen Jianqing and me, so I just said, “My stomach feels a bit off. I need to go take care of it.”
“Hey!” Xu Zirong waved at me. “There are no restrooms here…”
I couldn’t help but chuckle softly and went alone into the bamboo grove behind the embankment.
The bonfire on the embankment was burning fiercely, and although it wasn’t as bright as day in the bamboo grove, I could still see clearly.
I didn’t actually have any physiological issues to resolve, but to make it look convincing, I climbed over a small hill and hid behind it.
After standing there for a while, I felt enough time had passed, and their conversation surely would have moved on. So, I decided to head back.
As soon as I climbed back over the small hill, I saw two figures standing not far ahead. One of them held a small jar, while the other was in the process of breaking its seal, leaning in close, perhaps adding something, inhaling the wine’s aroma, or taking a tentative sip.
Hmm? My heart tightened. My intuition told me not to make a sound.
The two quickly left the bamboo grove and walked towards the embankment. As I climbed out from behind the small hill, a secret sense of unease rose within me.
What were those two doing?
Feeling anxious and distracted, I returned to the embankment. Xu Zirong pulled me down to sit and said, “Ah Ze, are you having stomach issues? You were gone for so long, and your face looks terrible.”
I didn’t know whether to tell them what I had seen. If those two were acting normally, wouldn’t me suddenly bringing it up make me seem distrustful and petty?
“No…”
But before I could say anything, the lusheng melody on the field suddenly soared, the sound so piercing that it hurt my eardrums and shook my spirit. It was as if only this lusheng tune existed between heaven and earth. Just as the melody reached its peak, to our surprise, all the men playing the lusheng abruptly stopped, and the sound vanished.
Silence fell over everything.
In that moment of extreme noise, the sudden halt of sound made the surrounding silence feel even more desolate, and the sound of the bonfire burning became uncharacteristically clear and low.
At this point, the old man sitting on the high platform moved.
He stood up with Wan Ying’s support and slowly came to the front of the platform. His voice was hoarse with age, but his demeanor was solemn and his eyes commanding. No one dared to disrespect him because of his age.
The chieftain spoke in the Miao language, which none of us understood, but we could certainly watch. As the elder chieftain’s voice fell silent, two bare-chested men walked over.
One held a wine jar, and the other distributed rough porcelain cups, pouring wine for the Miao villagers. The two worked together seamlessly.
They were the two men from the bamboo grove.
They quickly reached us. One took out a wine cup and handed it over, while the other tilted the jar, ready to pour the wine.
I hesitated as I took the cup.
Everyone here would be drinking from the same jar. If something were amiss, wouldn’t we all be affected? Maybe what I did earlier in the bamboo grove was nothing more than me overthinking.
With that thought, I felt slightly more at ease and brought the cup forward.
Once everyone had received their wine, the chieftain stood tall on the platform, raised his cup, and declared loudly, “Fu kai!”
The Miao villagers surrounding the bonfire also raised their cups high: “Fu kai!”
This must have meant “cheers.” We, a few outsiders mixed in the crowd, awkwardly looked left and right, mimicking them and shouting, “Fu kai!”
The chieftain’s gaze swept across the crowd before finally resting on our group, focusing on Shen Jianqing. His eyes were sharp and piercing, like those of an aged yet still powerful eagle, giving the impression that no secret could hide from his scrutiny.
Shen Jianqing met his gaze with an indifferent expression.
This was a confrontation between youth and age, an unspoken warning from the aging but still authoritative alpha wolf to a young, fully grown male wolf in the pack.
Finally, it was the chieftain who broke eye contact first, tilting his head back and downing the wine in his cup. The Miao villagers quickly followed suit.
Qiu Lu took a shallow sip, her eyes lighting up: “So sweet! Not spicy at all!” With that, she no longer held back and finished the wine in her cup.
The wine was indeed sweet and smooth; upon tasting it, I found it clear and mellow, sliding down the throat like a soft mist, carrying a faint aroma of green fruit.
Only Wen Lingyu, who had always been poor with alcohol, was at a loss. I remembered she was allergic to alcohol and couldn’t touch even a drop.
I was sitting beside her and was about to tell her to give me the wine when I saw the man next to her subtly move. His left hand inadvertently lifted, touching Wen Lingyu’s right hand, which was holding the wine.
Caught off guard, Wen Lingyu’s right hand tilted, and all the wine spilled onto her clothes.
Luckily, there wasn’t much wine, and she was wearing a thick black jacket, so no stains were visible.
Everything happened too fast for Wen Lingyu to even cry out. The man didn’t even seem to notice he had knocked over Wen Lingyu’s cup; he just continued chatting with the person next to him. No one else nearby noticed this small incident either.
Wen Lingyu and I exchanged a look. Her expression was a mix of helplessness and relief, and in the end, she just shrugged, indicating she didn’t need my help.
After finishing the wine, the lusheng music resumed, and the singing and dancing returned.
But this ceremony still felt strange. Shouldn’t festival celebrations be joyful and festive? Shouldn’t there be men, women, and children singing and dancing happily? Yet, most of those present were young adults; there wasn’t a single child.
The singing and dancing were also not joyous; the movements were stiff, and the singing was low and heavy, inspiring a sense of awe and apprehension in observers. Everyone involved wore solemn and serious expressions, as if they could burst into tears at any moment.
Suddenly, the chieftain walked down from the high platform, holding dozens of red silk ribbons.
The red silk ribbons were symbols and representations of deceased Miao people, each embroidered with a name.
The chieftain held the ribbons, his expression solemn and devout, approaching the bonfire step by step. Then, witnessed by everyone, he threw all the ribbons into the fire!
The next moment, the lusheng music grew even louder, and the singing became more pronounced, but all the dancers suddenly prostrated themselves, touching their foreheads to the ground.
A sudden realization struck me.
This wasn’t a celebratory festival ceremony; it was more like a sacrifice!
The feeling of unease reached its peak.
My back grew cold, and goosebumps prickled densely from my spine upwards.
At that moment, I still didn’t know that our misfortune had already begun.
